Attached
by Carreercrim331
Summary: Draco, the Redguard Dragonborn, has always lived by one rule as an assassin: Never become Attached to a client. So why cant he stop thinking about her?
1. Chapter 1

Dawnstar

Draco left the sanctuary early in the morning, heading for another contract in Markarth. He hadn't been to the city in a while, not since his encounter with Molag Bal. A shudder ran through the Redguard as he traveled to the Whiterun stables to hire a carriage. He had left the mace in a chest in Honeyside under lock and key. He might be willing to kill without hesitation, but even he was uncomfortable holding that weapon.

In all honesty, Draco was just glad to get out of the sanctuary. Ever since the Falkreath sanctuary had burned, he had taken over as leader of the Dark Brotherhood in Dawnstar, which wasn't so bad. All he had to do was listen to the Night Mother, receive the contracts for the day, decide which to perform himself and give the rest to Nazir to distribute to the others.

What drove him up the wall was that lunatic Keeper.

He had spared Cicero on the advice of Lucien's spirit. He had been told that killing the mad jester would not have pleased the Night Mother. Now, however, he was starting to regret doing so. When he was in the sanctuary, Cicero followed him around like a loyal dog, a look of admiration in his eyes as he watched the great Listener get orders from their precious Mother. Draco had never been fond of people, but Cicero was going to drive him to madness himself, always pestering Draco to let him come with him on a contract or when he returned to the sanctuary, to tell him how the contract went.

Draco arrived at the stables with little incident, a thief had tried to mug him on the road. If one were to look in the river beside that road now, they would find the body of an Argonian mangled beyond recognition and a bloody splatter against a rock on the far side.

After speaking with the carriage driver, Draco flipped him a few coins and climbed into the carriage. Yawning, Draco decided to get some sleep before the carriage arrived and he had to go to work.

Markarth Stables

The carriage grinding to a halt was enough to rouse Draco. He had always been a light sleeper and today was no different. Giving thanks to the carriage driver, he strolled into the city.

'_Okay, then.' _He thought. _'The Night Mother told me that the contract is at the Hag's Cure.' _Knowing where the apothecary was, the Redguard quickly made his way up the stone steps of the city, taking care to avoid the abandoned house as he passed it.

He entered the shop silently before walking up the counter, making note of the woman's prominent war paint.

"Good day." She began, noticing Draco. "Might I interest you in some potions or alchemy ingredients?"

Draco smiled and shook his head respectfully. "Apologies, but I am here to deliver a private message for a 'Muiri'. Might she be here?"

The woman smiled and nodded. "She's my assistant. I'll let her know you're here." With that, the old alchemist left the room, Draco waiting patiently, his hood concealing most of his features.

When the door behind the counter opened again, this time a different woman stood in the threshold. She was a Breton, much younger then the woman from before and her face lacked the paint the older woman flaunted.

"Yes?" She asked. "What message did you bring?"

Draco's tone remained flat. "I didn't bring you a message, I'm responding to yours."

Muiri's expression shifted in confusion and aggravation. "What do you mean? I haven't sent a message in weeks."

"The Dark Brotherhood has come, Muiri." Draco said watched the Breton's body language.

"The Dark Broth-"She cut herself off, her eyes widening with realization. "Oh, Divines, you're really here…"

Draco smiled, the only part of his face visible from under his hood. "Oh course I am. You performed the Black Sacrament and we never turn down a contract."

Muiri trembled slightly as she took in Draco's black garb.

The Redguard's smile didn't fade. "Well, onto business, shall we. What is your wish?"

The Breton stiffened, her hands clenching into fists of rage. "My wish? My wish is for Alain Dufont to die! He deserves it after the pain he's caused me."

Draco tilted his head. "Where can I find him?"

Muiri's expression didn't change. "He's camping with his bandit group in Raldbthar, the dwarven ruin."

Draco nodded. "Alright, then. Anything else?"

The Breton's eyes went to the floor. "W-Well, if you're interested, I want you to kill someone else, too."

Draco didn't move. "I'm listening."

"It's Nelsine Shatter-Shield in Windhelm. You don't have to-"

Draco raised a hand and cut her off. "Say no more. They both will die." The Redguard turned and left without another word.

Windhelm

Instead of a carriage, Shadowmere brought him to Windhelm, the snowiest city in Skyrim. The Redguard shook the excess from this cloak as he took in the sight of the city. It looked much better than the last time he had been here. Of course, when he had last arrived, it had been with an army of legionnaires at his back as General Tullius led them against Ulfric Stormcloak. He still had the sword the General had rewarded him with after the battle.

Pushing through the gate, the Redguard turned to the west side of town. He was still traveling when he noticed his target.

Nelsine had just left the Hall of the Dead and was on her way back to her home. Draco pulled the Blade of Woe from his belt, creeping up behind the young woman. When he was close enough, the Dragonborn took a quick look around to see if anyone was watching, before he smacked his palm across the Shattershield's mouth and drove the dagger into the back of her neck.

Her initial scream died in her throat as blood began to pour through the wound. Draco pulled his blade out with ease, the sharp blade cutting through bone cleanly. Pulling the body down, he lay it gently on the ground before turning.

Draco left without a backwards glance.

Raldbthar

Another bandit fell, an arrow lodged in his neck as Draco made his way silently through the ruin. He kept his dragon bone bow drawn as he arrived at his destination, the ruin's central chamber.

This brought about another problem. While Nelsine had been a fairly well known person in Windhelm, Alain Dufont was not, leaving the Dragonborn with no idea what the man looked like. However, given the situation, the leader is probably the man in fine clothes with the Warhammer strapped to his back.

Draco notched another arrow, taking aim before downing another bandit, leaving only Alain and a fur armored bandit still standing.

Alain pulled the hammer from his back, turning with barely contained terror as his last underling took an arrow to the heart.

"Where the hell are you?!" He yelled as he backed himself into a corner, his hammer held in trembling hands.

Draco stepped out of the shadows, he bow hanging on his back and a smirk on his face. "Right here, Mr. Dufont."

Alain shook as looked at the corridor behind the Dragonborn.

Draco tilted his head, his smirk growing. "You're wondering where all your underlings are? Simple. They're all dead."

The Breton man pushed himself farther into the corner. "W-what do you want from me?!"

Draco sighed. "I don't want anything, Mr. Dufont. Muiri, however…"

Alain froze. "M-Muiri put you up to this?!"

Draco stepped towards the man. "Yes, I'm afraid she wants you dead. And I never disappoint a client."

Alain attempted to appear powerful with the Warhammer. "W-Well you won't kill me so easily. I have Aegisbane! You won't come anywhere near me as long as I have this hammer!"

Draco's smirk didn't fade. "Who said I had come near you?" He pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing a small, black gem before taking a deep breath.

"_RII VAAZ ZOL"_

Alain was thrown backwards as the force of the Soul Tear shout smashed into him. Incredible pain exploded through his body as his soul was pulled into the Black Soul Gem that Draco held.

After the dead body had fallen, the second effect of the shout activated, reanimating the corpse. It lurched to it's feet, staggering slightly as it walked over to Draco, looking at him with sightless eyes.

Shaking his head with disgust, Draco drove his dagger through the zombie's neck and watched it dissolve into ashes. He was about to leave when he noticed the hammer that had fallen from Alain's grasp.

Kneeling, he picked up the weapon, feeling its surprisingly light weight as it glowed softly with enchantment.

Feeling it would be shame to leave such a valuable weapon in this ruin, he slung it over his shoulder before turning to admire his handy work for a moment before turning towards the ruin's entrance.

He had a client to return to.

Markarth

Darco stabled Shadowmere outside the city before entering, deciding he needed a drink soon. He pushed open the door to the Silver-Blood inn and sat at the bar, ordering some Cyrodilic Brandy. If he said it aloud, he might have been laughed out of any inn in Skyrim, but Draco had a deep dislike of Nordic mead.

His drink came and he thanked the bartender graciously. He might be a professional killer, but there was no reason he couldn't be civilized about it.

He didn't drink quickly, enjoying the taste of the liquid as it slid down his throat. He was about to order his second drink when a familiar person sat down next to him.

"Did..Did you do it?" asked Muiri almost timidly.

Draco nodded. "I finished the job if that is what you're asking."

Muiri's face brightened immediately. "Thank you so much." She pulled a middling bag of coin from her belt and placed it on the bar in front of Draco, who accepted it kindly.

The pair was silent for a moment before Draco smiled slightly. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Muiri turned to him, startled. "W-What?"

Draco smirked. "I can't very well toast a job well done by myself, can I?"

Muiri didn't move for a moment, but eventually nodded. "Black-Briar mead, please."

The two sat together for a few hours, drinking and talking, until the moon was high in the sky.

"Well, I should be going." Said the apprentice alchemist as she stood. "I have to open the shop early tomorrow."

Draco nodded. "All right then."

After Muiri departed, Draco paid his bill and left, climbing the steps to one of his houses. He could get back to the sanctuary in the morning.

Pushing the door open, he was greeted by one of his housecarls, Argis. He exchanged a few simple words before hanging his cloak by the fire to dry and climbing into his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco woke early the next morning, immediately his senses alert and ready. He pulled himself out of bed with little effort, stretching his arms above him before pulling on his armour, the familiar black leather feeling comfortable against his skin as he said his farewells to Argis and left the hall, his house's position giving him a beautiful view of the sun as hit began to creep it's way up the horizon.

Taking in the sight, the Redguard let out a deep breath before he began to walk down the step towards the front gate. The streets were almost deserted, with the exception of the occasional guard. Draco sighed, knowing that he was in for a long ride back to Dawnstar, with that damn lunatic practically stalking him all day.

Draco sighed, lowering his head. As he did so, movement on the lower walkway caught his eye. Confused, he leaned over to get a better look.

Muiri was walking quickly towards the Hag's Cure with a basket full of wildflowers for potions. She enjoyed getting out of the city, even with the threat of Forsworn, so she never went far enough to lose sight of a guard.

Her gaze fell to the basket she carried, taking a mental count of the different flowers she had gathered.

'_Twenty blue mountain flowers, fifteen red mountain flowers, twelve purple mountain flowers, eleven nightshade blossoms' _The Breton was so caught up in thought that she didn't notice the large figure in front of her until she had stepped directly into it, knocking her onto her rear.

When the Breton raised her head to look at the figure, her blood ran cold with fear.

Standing in front of her, armoured in traditional elven armour, was a very angry looking Altmer.

In an instant, the lightly armoured elf's arm shot forward, gripping Muiri's arm and dragged her to her feet, his gold eyes burning with barely disguised disgust.

"What are you doing?" the Thalmor agent asked with a sneer, his grip tight enough to bruise.

Muiri stuttered slightly before she responded. "I-I was going back to work."

The Thalmor used his free hand to pull something from his pocket and quickly pulled it over Muiri's head so that it dangled around her throat. "No, I think you were heading towards that shrine, you heretic!" he spat, shoving the Breton back to the ground.

Muiri grabbed the amulet that the Thalmor had pulled over her head and quickly realized what it was.

It was an Amulet of Talos.

Seeing her realize this, the Altmer sneered down as he pulled an elven sword from his waist. "I have the authority to execute heretic sub-races like you on the spot, human." He stepped forward, ready to follow through on his threat.

Muiri froze as the Altmer came closer, raising his sword.

Draco took this in quickly.

The Thalmor agent had set the stage perfectly. If anyone saw this, he could easily state that Muiri was a heretic that needed to be executed for resisting arrest, the Talos amulet giving evidence to that. The Breton could be killed and no one would ask a single question, not that anyone would question the Thalmor to their face.

Draco remained where he was, his face blank as he thought.

'_I should keep walking. This has nothing to do with me. All I have to do is stand and leave. I'm an assassin, not a hero…..not anymore…._

…_.._

…_.._

…_.._

_..Damn it…'_

The Redguard flipped one of his daggers off his belt and into his hand before jumping onto the lower walkway, landing lightly behind the Thalmor agent as the tall Altmer drew closer to the fallen Breton, his enchanted armour letting him move with practiced silence as he cautiously stepped closer to the Altmer.

When he was close enough, the Altmer drew arm back, prepared to slash, only to find that a very strong hand had lock itself around his wrist and yanked it back, causing the Thalmor to spin in place until his neck collided with the Redguard's drawn dagger, the dragonbone piercing moonstone with ease.

Blood began to seep through the wound instantly, staining the yellow-gold of the Altmer's armour. Draco caught sight of the life leaving the tall Mer's dark yellow eyes before the body collapsed into the aqueduct the flowed alongside the street, the sanguine fluids mixing with the clear as the current carried the blood away.

Draco wasn't surprised when he heard the sound of running feet behind him and a guard rounded the corner, his iron sword drawn and ready, but quickly fell as he took in the situation as the Redguard dipped his dagger in the water before slipping it back into its sheath and turning to address the guard.

Seeing the Black Hand symbol on his armour and the fallen Thalmor agent, the guard quickly sheathed his weapon, his eyes still hidden behind his helmet. As he turned to leave, Draco heard him quietly speak. "Hail Sithis." Then he was gone, leaving Draco on the side street with a very confused Breton and a dead Altmer.

Muiri finally looked up at Draco, noting that his hood still concealed his face. "You….you helped me. Why?"

Draco knelt down next to the dead Thalmor, observing his handiwork before sighed. "I don't know." He said quietly before standing again. "Usually don't help people." The Redguard shook his head slightly before gathering up the fallen flowers into Muiri's basket and handing it to the Breton, who had just succeeded in getting to her feet.

She accepted the basket, a small smile on her face. "Thank you."

Draco felt a similar expression appear on his own face, involuntarily as he thought about what he had just done.

The pair were silent for a while before Draco turned. "I should be going. I have…business to attend to."

The Redguard was about to leave when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. Turning, Draco saw Muiri standing behind him, her expression grateful.

"Wait, please. You've just saved my life and you act like it's nothing?" The Breton cautiously stepped a little closer to him. "Can I know your name?"

Draco lowered his head in thought. Almost no one knew his real name. He used an alias almost everywhere, but never told many people what his real name was.

"You can call me Adam." He said, giving the same name he had given the Imperials, both at Helgan and when he enlisted.

The Breton smiled again. Draco noticed that to him it just seemed….right for her to smile. Like any other expression was out of place.

"Well, Adam." She said. "Thank you for saving me." The Breton turned her head downwards slightly. "Are you staying in Markarth?"

Draco shook his head. "No. I have to get back to Dawnstar."

Muiri seemed disappointed. "So soon?"

Draco nodded. "An assassin's work is never done. There's always another contract."

Muiri nodded slowly, her expression neutral. "Alright." She turned down the street. "I should go."

Draco nodded. "Good day, Muiri." He turned and walked away heading towards the gates.

Muiri watched him go until the large metal gates closed behind him.

Dawnstar

Shadowmere carried Draco all the way back to the Sanctuary with little need to stop, the unholy horse having near-infinite stamina. The townspeople didn't pay him much mind as he dismounted near the coastline and approached the door.

Draco entered the sanctuary with a slight sense of trepidation. His hope was to enter quietly and get a good night's rest before getting another contract….

"Listener!"

…..and that hope was swiftly destroyed when Cicero bounded up to him, his eyes wide with giddy joy.

"Oh, Listener! You've returned!" his voice carried through the cold halls of the sanctuary.

"Yes, Cicero. I believe that is obvious." Draco said in a monotone as he passed the jester, knowing he would be followed.

"Listener, might I ask, how was your latest contract? Did you smash and mash your target? Or slit their throats without a sound?"

"The contract was fine. I got the job done and was paid for it." Draco spoke, his voice starting to show annoyance.

Cicero didn't seem to notice. "Oh, great Listener. Might you tell poor Cicero how you did it?" the jester looked at Draco like a dog asking for a bone.

"No." Draco replied as he entered his quarters, avoiding Nazir and Babette for the time being. The initiates were apparently still filling the contracts that they had been given.

Cicero slipped in behind him as Draco muttered a quick spell, causing his room's torches to ignite.

"Oh, please Listener! Cicero has been so bored since you left!"

Draco let out an angry sigh as he grabbed a bottle of his brandy from his desk. "I said no, Cicero. I don't want to talk about it."

Cicero's expression changed from hopeful to concern. "Is the something the matter Listener? Might Cicero…..help?"

Draco shook his head as he took a gulp of brandy. "No, Cicero. This is personal."

Cicero stepped closer. "And what would make the great Listener so…..agitated?"

Draco's gaze hardened as he looked at the jester. "Cicero, I don't want help with this, nor do I need it. Leave me be."

Cicero nodded sadly before he turned and left the listener's room, returning to the room he usually shared with the initiates when they were there.

As he lay on his bed, his thoughts raced. Why does the Listener never speak with him? Why does he never take him with him on contracts? Cicero was skilled, yes very much so, but the Listener still preferred to do his contracts alone. Why was that? Maybe if Cicero showed his loyalty, the Listener would take him with him on his next contract. Maybe a gift would help? Yes, that's PERFECT! Now, what does the Listener like?

As he considered this, Cicero began to realize how little he knew about the man Mother had chosen. He never spoke about himself to anyone in the Sanctuary at least. Maybe he should ask him?

Cicero lay there till sleep took him into its cold embrace.

Markarth

It had been several weeks since Muiri had met 'Adam' and since then, she had been slightly confused. The incident with the Thalmor agent had been reported, obviously, but no one that was questioned was able to give an answer of what had occurred.

Muiri was currently mixing a few ingredients together at the alchemy station. Her thoughts, however, were not on her work, instead wondering back to that day when 'Adam' had saved her. I occurred to her that she didn't even know what the man looked like, his face covered by his hood. She could tell by the little skin she could see that he was a Redguard, but beyond that, she had no idea.

By the time she had finished her thoughts, the ingrediants she had been working with had been reduced to a liquid, a pale green in colour. Muiri smiled to herself as she poured the liquid into a vial. She was about to place the potion on a shelf when she heard her teacher approach. Turning, she gave the old Breton a smile.

"Muiri, dear." Bothela said. "I have an errand I need done, if you would be so kind."

"What do you need?" Muiri asked.

The old Breton sighed. "An old friend has something that I need for a new potion, but my old bones aren't as young as they were. Can you get it for me?"

Muiri sighed. "Of course. Where do I need to go?"

Bethela replied. "The Mortar and Pestle in Dawnstar. Frida has some equipment I need."

Muiri nodded. "Alright. I'll get it for you.

Bethela smiled. Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

Draco pulled himself out of the sanctuary at exactly the wrong moment, receiving a blast of light snow to the face as exited the trapdoor. He silently pulled a hand down his face to clear it. His first few months in Skyrim had been miserable, his body not being conditioned to the cold. Now, however, he barely noticed it.

Stretching his arms, the Redguard made his way towards the inn. Unlike usual, he wasn't wearing his Dark Brotherhood armour, instead equipping the Dragonscale set he wore when he wasn't on a contract. He walked past the people of Dawnstar, a few guards greeting him by name, or the name most people knew him by. To the open world, he was Adam, the Dragonborn, saviour of Nirn and Thane of Skyrim. A hero who fought to defend the world from Alduin and then vanish like the wind.

If they only knew what he did when he disappeared.

He didn't have any contracts for today, the initiates needing the experience and pay more than he did. So he had given them all to Nazir and gave himself a much needed break.

He slipped into the Windpeak Inn and traded a few greetings with it's patrons, forcing himself to smile.

He sat down at the counter, not even needing to speak as the bartender brought him his usual drink. He took a drink of brandy and sighed as he put it down.

Dawnstar was so boring.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Muiri smiled as she paid her carriage driver for bringing her to the Pale. With a final word, the man left, his carriage bouncing along the snow-covered road.

Muiri entered the city without incident and headed towards the apothecary.

She let out a frustrated sigh when Frida told her she would need a while to prepare the equipment for transport.

"How long do you need?" the young Breton asked.

The old Nord shook her head. "About a day. I need to disassemble it before I can start packing it."

Muiri nodded. "Alright. I will be back tow tomorrow then."

Muiri left the Mortar and Pestle with a slight feeling of agitation. Dawnstar was not the liveliest of places, so she did what any traveler would do if stuck for the day in what resembled a ghost town.

She went to the inn.

The Breton found a seat and ordered some mead for herself. She just sat there, sipping her drink for a while before something the bard said caught her attention.

"So, Adam. Care to hear anything specific?"

The name she said made Muiri almost choke on her mead. Turning, she saw a Redguard seated at the bar, dismissing the bard. The man had apparently finished his drink, because his next action was drop some Septims on the bar and stand before walking out the door.

The Breton had followed before she knew what she was doing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Draco knew immediately he was being followed. He knew the Breton was there, but couldn't decide what he wanted to do about it.

He could lose her easily, with his speed and invisibility spell, but that wouldn't solve the root of his problem. This person was someone trying to kill him for one thing or another he had done, or they could just be a fan from one of his adventures, he had gathered quite a few in recent years. So he needed to do what he always did in this situation before he made a decision.

The Redguard turned into the space between two houses before triggering his invisibility spell, fading from view before his pursuer could catch sight of him. He then remained perfectly still, pressing himself against the wall facing the wind so that the snow that still fell from the sky wouldn't reveal him.

When he saw who had been following him, his face twisted in confusion as he dismissed his spell. "Why are you following me?"

Muiri stumbled back slightly, surprised as Draco became visible. "Wh-what?"

Draco tilted his head and folded his arms. "I asked why you were following me, Muiri."

The Breton looked the Redguard in the eye. "You…you are the Adam I know?"

Draco smirked. "Of course I am. How else would I know your name?"

The Breton's unease evaporated instantly. "How, indeed."

Draco's smirk changed to a full on smile. "Now, what brings you to Dawnstar? I doubt you came for entertainment."

The Breton sighed. "I needed to pick up some equipment for a new potion, but it won't be ready to transport till tomorrow."

Draco nodded. "So, you're in town for the day then?"

The Breton nodded. "Unfortunately. I was hoping to get a room at the inn."

Draco shrugged. "Good luck with that. A group of mercenaries have taken most of the rooms for the foreseeable future. Add the usual travelers, you won't find a room."

Muiri sighed, lowering her head. "Really?"

Draco nodded, knocking the Breton's hope of finding a room even further down.

Draco tilted his head. "Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?"

The Breton folded her arms. "It appears so. Do you know where I can find a room?"

Draco nodded. "I can give you a place for the night."

Muiri's head shot up to meet the Redguard's eye. "W-What?!"

Draco shrugged. "You need a place to stay, I have a house."

Muiri met the Redguard's eye, considering the offer. She should have been terrified of spending any time with the man, knowing what he had done to the Thalmor agent, Nelsine and Alain Dufont. But she felt no such emotion. Instead, she found the offer rather appealing.

After a few moments the Breton looked Draco in the eye and a smile broke. "Alright, Adam."

Draco smiled. "Ok then, Muiri. It shouldn't take too long to get there." The Redguard led Muiri a short distance down the road and away from the town, The Breton becoming very confused.

"Isn't your house in town?" She asked.

Drako turned to his companion, a smug grin on his face. "Actually, if we want to get to my house, we need a ride." The Redguard closed his eyes for a moment, muttering some words she did not understand before opening his eyes and smiling.

Muiri was growing even more confused. This confusion quickly turned to fear as a few meters ahead of them, a swirling black portal exploded open and, with a thunderous sound of hooves, a pure black horse galloped through.

The beast turned it's glowing red eyes on Draco as it approached the pair. The Redguard raised his hand and placed it on the beast's nose. "Welcome back, my friend."

Muiri had been watching with silent terror, but as the beast had approached Draco and he placed his hand on it's snout, she approached with caution. "A-Adam, what is this?"

Draco smiled and turned to her. "This is Shadowmere. He's been my friend for a long time." The Redguard took a few steps to the side of the great beast before pulling himself into the saddle, smiling at the familiar feeling of the horse under him. Turning, he offered a hand to the Breton. "Come now, Muiri. Shadowmere won't bite. Unless I tell him to."

Muiri slowly approached the mount, but froze when the beast turned his glowing eyes on her. She was stuck by the beauty in the unholy horse. It's eyes resembled rubies reflecting flames. After admiring them for a few moments, the Breton took Draco's offered hand and was hauled onto the horse's back.

The Redguard turned his head to meet her eye. "Hold on. Shadowmere like to run."

And run the unholy horse did.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The pair had been traveling for barely an hour when the estate came into view. Muiri took in the sight with wide eyes.

The house was bigger than the entirety of the Hag's Cure. The apothecary could have fit into the main hall with room to spare. In the west wing there was an extremely well stocked kitchen, with the dining table in the main hall, with bedrooms in the east and a tower on the north wall, practically bursting with alchemy supplies.

Draco dismounted first, slipping off his horse with practiced ease before offering Muiri his hand, helping the woman down. "Welcome to my humble home."

Muiri was looked at her friend with shock. "You live here?"

Draco smiled. "Not usually, but I do own the land."

Muiri's expression was still confused. "Why don't you stay here?"

Draco shrugged. "I work a lot."

Muiri seemed to accept this. "I guess so. I must ask though. Why did you buy this house?"

Draco smirked. "I didn't buy it. I built it."

Muiri was shocked. "You built this house yourself?"

Draco nodded, and moved past her to stable Shadowmere for a moment. "Yes. During my fight against Alduin, I needed a few places to rest."

The Breton spun. "Alduin? But I thought that the Dragonborn did that?"

Draco spun to face the snowy field, taking a deep breath._ "FUS RO DUH"_. The Unrelenting Force shout exploded from Draco's lips, throwing up a large powdery mass. The Redguard turned back to Muiri, smirking at the startled expression.

"S-So" Muiri began. "You're the Dragonborn?"

Draco nodded before he let out a sigh as he entered his hall, Muiri following. As he took a seat at the table, he spoke again. "That is what most of the people call me." His expression changed to a smirk. "Most of them don't even know my real name."

Muiri took the seat across from him, looking concerned. "Adam isn't your real name?"

Draco turned his head, giving the Breton a very funny look. "I'm an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood, Legate of the Imperial Legion and Dragonborn. I need an alias for when I do things the word sees."

Muiri nodded in understanding. "That's true." She looked Draco in the eye, noting the dark red colouring. "Can I ask your real name?"

Draco smiled. "You can ask, but that doesn't mean I'll tell." Muiri looked hurt, but Draco continued. "I should start cooking if we want dinner." The Redguard stood and entered the kitchen, leaving the Breton at the table watching him.

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Dinner was quickly done. Draco might have been a career assassin, but his adventuring days had given him many skills, cooking amongst them. He was done in merely an hour, serving some freshly cooked venison. Soon after eating, Draco had given Muiri free access to his home, before retiring to the west wing of his home.

After several hours of sitting near the hearth that Draco had lit, reading a book she had found on one of the shelves, Muiri heard a sharp breath from Draco's room. Concerned the Breton, stood and went to the closed door.

"Adam, can I come in?" she asked.

"Enter." Came the response.

The Breton pushed the door open, but when she did, she recoiled slightly at the sight.

Draco was sitting on his bed, an assortment of bandages beside him as he attempted to wrap one around his shoulder and several more soaking in a small pot.

The Breton approached the bed, looking concerned. "Adam, are you alright?"

Draco nodded, trying to tighten a medicine-soaked bandage around his shoulder. "Yeah. My shoulder, not so much." As he spoke, the bandage slipped off. "Damn it!"

Muiri's eyes locked on the Redguard's shoulder. The flesh had apparently been healing, but had been torn open by movement. The inside was a dark purple. Draco had been trying to wrap the bandage around it.

Muiri stepped closer to man, getting a better look at the wound. When she was close enough, the woman ran a soft hand across the flesh around the wound. "Where did you get this?"

Draco hisses slightly as Muiri touched the flesh. "After I left Markarth. Forsworn caught me on the way back, had to cut my way out, but one of them gave me this."

Muiri kept examining the wound. "That was weeks ago. Why is it still open?"

Draco sighed. "It was healing, but it tore open again. I can't seem to wrap it properly."

Muiri sighed and pulled a fresh bandage from the pot of medicine. "Hold still."

Draco was startled. He had never heard Muiri speak so commandingly. He was still shocked when Muiri wrapped the wound carefully. The Breton's hands moved skillfully as she pulled the ends into a tight knot. "How does that feel?"

Draco shifted his arm, feeling the medicine press into the wound and numb the pain. "Much better." He was silent for a few moments before he spoke again. "Thank you, Muiri."

The Breton nodded. "As a thanks for letting me stay here." She was smiled and turned.

As she was about to leave, however she heard the Redguard speak.

"Draco."

The Breton turned to the man in confusion. "What?"

"My name is Draco." He said, looking her in the eye.

Muiri smiled. "All right. Good night, Draco." The Breton said as she left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, Draco could not sleep.

This was highly unusual for him. Most of the time he could force himself to at least doze and recover some stamina for the coming day, but tonight, his mind refused to rest. He turned his head to see his shoulder, the fresh bandage still tied in place over it, the room barely illuminated by the goat horn candles on the walls.

Why was he so…attached to this Breton? He flexed his muscle, feeling the bandage stretch and contract with it. He remembered the feeling of Muiri, tracing her finger across the wound. It hadn't hurt, the medicine having numbed to wound by then.

But he had still inhaled sharply at the contact, for the opposite reason. Muiri's touch had felt….Pleasant? Was that the right word for it? He didn't have an answer.

Deciding some wine would clear his head, Draco pulled himself out of his bed, quietly.

He walked through the main hall and entered the kitchen, grabbing a bottle from his cabinet before walking back into the hall, withdrawing a mug from a cabinet and putting another log in the slowly dying hearth.

He sat there, watching the slowly burning log for a few minutes, or it could have been a few hours, the Redguard loosing track quickly. He must have been deep in thought because he didn't even hear the door open and someone slip into his house until he was right beside Draco.

"Good morning, Listener." Came a familiar voice.

Draco started, but recovered almost instantly. "Hello, Cicero. What are you doing here?"

The Imperial chuckled to himself as he settled into a seat. "I was hoping we could have a little chat, something must be troubling you, Listener. Usually Cicero can't sneak up on you."

Draco didn't look at him. "I'm fine."

Cicero didn't believe him, his voice growing slightly louder and slightly offended. "Oh, why must the great Listener lie to poor Cicero? Why, Why WHY-"he didn't get any further before Draco slapped a palm across his mouth, his dark red eyes seeming to burn.

"Be quite you fool!" Draco snapped. "We're not alone here."

Cicero froze as Draco removed his hand.

The Imperial looked shocked. "And who is in the Listener's house, Cicero wonders?"

Draco sighed through his teeth. "A friend. She needed a place for the night."

Cicero looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head when he heard that. "A WOMAN!? The Listener has a WOMAN in his house!? But the only woman the Listener needs is Mother!"

Draco narrowed his eyes, the dark red seeming to burn. "Cicero, she is a friend who needed a place to stay for the night. Nothing more."

Cicero met his eye, the earlier panic replaced determination. "Mother would frown on this, Cicero knows! The Listener belongs to her, no other! But not to worry, Listener!" The Imperial stood and pulled his ebony dagger from its sheath. "Cicero will fix this right away!" He took a step towards the staircase.

That was as far as he got before a hand had seized his shoulder, spinning him around before smashing him against one of the supports to the house, causing it to shudder.

Before Cicero knew what was happening, Draco was in front of him, his eyes blazing and the Blade of Woe digging into the Imperial's neck.

Draco was silent for a few moments, taking in the sight of the paralyzed Imperial he had pinned. When he spoke, it was through his teeth. "You will not touch her, fool!" His voice held more fury then Draco had ever felt. He practically threw the Imperial towards the door. "Leave, Keeper. And never return here."

Cicero's disbelieving eyes met Draco's furious ones one last time before the fool scrambled to the door and into the early morning.

Draco sighed. He knew Cicero thought he was like him, blindly loyal to the Night Mother and ready to forsake the rest of him to her, but Draco wasn't. He would follow his unholy matron's orders until he died, of course, but that's all. He would never sacrifice part of his life specifically to please her.

He also knew Cicero would not let this go.

"Lucian." The Dragonborn spoke, summoning his incorporeal companion.

"Listener." The shade spoke as he materialized.

"Follow the Keeper and keep me informed of his movements."

Lucian turned to Draco. "Of course. Do you fear treachery?"

Draco shook his head. "No. I fear he might disobey me."

Lucian nodded and vanished, off to perform his task.

* * *

><p>Cicero scrambled over the snowy hills back towards where his horse was stabled, his eyes almost trailing tears.<p>

How? How? HOW could the Listener betray Mother like this?! He was supposed to be hers, bound to serve only her until he went to the Void! Why would he do this?!

Cicero's grief fled quickly, replaced with a scathing anger, not only for Draco and his harlot, but at the Night Mother herself. Why would she choose Draco, the man who was at this moment betraying her with some OTHER WOMAN!

Cicero had always been loyal to the Night Mother. Cicero had been the one to protect her during the months of silence. Cicero had been the one who brought her to Skyrim. But he was not the Listener.

Cicero quickly changed his thoughts, redirecting his anger towards the Redguard. He couldn't kill him, for he was Mother's chosen Listener. But there had to be a way to make him see what he was doing was wrong!

The Imperial let out an angry breath before he started back on his way to the sanctuary. He had think of a way to convince Draco that what was doing was wrong, but how could he do it?

He mounted his horse, listening to only his thoughts, unaware of the semi-transparent being watching him.

* * *

><p>After Cicero had left, Draco returned to his seat and wine, hoping to calm himself. His mind was searching for answers to his newest problem.<p>

Why was he so protective of Muiri, he thought. He was still going through that thought when the Breton came down the stairs.

Draco gave her a polite smile. "Good morning, Muiri."

Muiri smiled back. "Good morning, Draco." She joined him by the fire, sitting across from him.

Neither said anything, but both found the silence comforting as they listened to the sound of wood popping as it burned. After a few minutes, they did speak.

"This house is incredible. You and your wife must love it here." Muiri said as she looked around the great hall for the hundredth time. Her words were calm, but when she thought of Draco with another woman her chest ached.

Draco shook his head. "Don't have a wife."

Muiri's head shot up. "Really? I thought a man like you would have already been snapped up."

Draco met Muiri's eye and was startled by what he saw. The brown eyes held something he had never seen directed at him before. The soft eyes held a spark of genuine affection in them. Not admiration or intimidation, which Draco had found commonly in his travels, but actual affection.

Draco caught himself and stood. "We should get back to town. You need to pick up that equipment and get back to Markarth." With that said, the Redguard stood and headed for the door, needing to prepare Shadowmere.

Had he looked behind him as he left his house, he would have seen Muiri's disappointed face as she watched him leave.

* * *

><p>Draco brought Muiri back to the city by midday, Shadowmere not tiring in the slightest.<p>

"Here's where we part ways, Muiri." The Redguard said as he helped her off the horse.

The Breton nodded sadly. "Will I see you again?"

Draco shrugged. "Don't know. My contracts could take me to Markarth, but maybe not." He felt a slight stab of regret that Muiri was leaving. "And then there's my occupational hazard."

Muiri froze at the thought of Draco getting killed on one of his contracts. "Thank you again." She said in a quiet voice before turning and almost running to the inn.'

When she arrived, Muiri took a seat quickly, holding her head in both hands, letting out deep breaths.

She didn't know how long she was like that, but before long a hand landed on her shoulder.

"My daughter, is something wrong?" came a voice she didn't recognize.

Lowering her hands, Muiri saw the voice belonged to a Dunmer, dressed in the robes of priest.

"Who are you?" she asked him in return.

The Dunmer gave a little sigh. "I am Erandur, priest of Mara. Now, what troubles you?"

Muiri sighed. "I guess talking to priest might help." The Breton let out a sigh. "It's about a man. He's helped me many times and from what he's told me, I know him better than anyone else. He's done things for me no one else ever would. But know, I have to leave and go back to Markarth, where I might never see him again."

Erandur smiled softly, reaching into his pocket for a moment before offering her it's contents. "My daughter, I think this could cure that problem."

Muiri froze when she saw what the priest was offering.

* * *

><p>Draco silently stared at the ocean from the coast, taking in the salty air.<p>

He had always liked the sea. It hid beauty and wonders that most would never consider. As a child, the Redguard himself had used an enchanted amulet to explore the depths near his home. Even know, years later, the ocean still had a calming effect on him, and that he needed now.

Draco was in no hurry to enter the Sanctuary, knowing that Cicero would probably be waiting for him and begin to make demands that he abandon Muiri, and that was something Draco would never do.

He would make time to visit her on contracts, he told himself. He was Listener, so the others wouldn't question him. He might take a break from contracts more often. He usually just did jobs for something to pass the time, as he was independently wealthy. Killing dragons could be very profitable.

His silence was broken by a familiar voice behind him.

"DRACO!" came Muiri as she ran up to him.

"Muiri? What are you doing? I thought you were going back to Markarth." Draco responded, but his voice almost sounded relieved to see her again.

Muiri blushed slightly, her head lowered. "W-Well I was thinking about what you said, about us maybe not seeing each other again. And I think I have a solution to that."

Draco tilted his head, confused. "What's your solution?"

Muiri continued blushing, but raised her head. "A better reason to see each other again."

Draco froze, seeing the Amulet of Mara around her neck.

**A/N: Some might say that its going too fast, but love in Skyrim is quick! Fav/Follow!**


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